It Started with a Question
by Queen of Loopholes
Summary: Hermione asks Fred for advice. FWHG. Oneshot.


_It Started with a Question_  
**Summary**: Hermione asks Fred for advice. FWHG. Oneshot.  
**Disclaimer**: _Harry Potter_ and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

He had gone into Hogsmeade for a little extra business with George. He hadn't meant to be out so late. George had come back a few hours earlier, but he had stayed behind. He strolled into the Gryffindor common room rather later than he had intended to and was surprised to see her silhouette against the firelight. He knew it was her. He had come to recognize her shape easily.

"Evenin'," he greeted as he sat down next to her.

She flashed him a tiny smile. "Hello," she greeted in return. Her brown eyes sparkled lightly from the soft light. They didn't say anything for a little while. She played with her fingers and he gazed around the room.

"Can I ask you a question?" Her voice broke the small silence but she kept her stare toward the floor.

"Shoot."

"How do you tell someone that you fancy them?"

He looked over at her, wondering if she really had asked that question. He didn't think she'd ever have that kind of problem. Or that she would be asking advice on it. "Er…well you just tell them."

He heard her sigh and he got the feeling that wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. "There are ways to show them," he added quickly in an attempt to keep her company a little bit longer.

"Such as?"

"Snogging the person senseless." He could have sworn he saw her blush.

"Are there any less forward ways?"

"A kiss. A simple one. Sometimes you can say a lot with just one kiss."

She looked over at him with a smile on her face. "Thank you, Fred."

"You're welcome, Hermione. Care to clue me in as to whom the lucky chap is?" Now he was sure he saw her blush. He even thought that it traveled to her ears.

"Just…a guy…"

"Well, what's he like?"

"Funny—hilarious really. He has this way about him that makes him incredibly attractive," Hermione sighed. "And he's completely out of my league."

Fred nodded. "I know what you mean."

She giggled. "I didn't think you liked guys, Fred."

His blush matched the color of his hair. "Not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"The _girl_ I like is way out of my league."

"Oh? What else is she like?"

"Beautiful, intelligent, and charming."

"Sounds like we both have a dilemma."

"Completely."

The pair sat and stared into the fireplace. The fire was beginning to die down into the dead, burned wood and its warmth was going along with it. There was a draft somewhere that seemed to drown the room in a chill.

"What's her name?" Hermione asked quietly.

"You first." Fred saw her bottom lip disappear in between her top and bottom rows of teeth. It was there for a while before it made an appearance again, along with her voice.

"You might not like me after I tell you."

"If it's Draco Malfoy I can guarantee I won't like you." When she didn't even giggle at his joke, his heart leapt into his throat. "Blood hell Hermione. Not Malfoy!"

Hearing her laugh—finally—was a huge relief. "No, not Draco," she reassured, looking at him. "Just…" she let out an exasperated sigh and leaned over, pressing her lips lightly against his.

Fred was shocked beyond shocked when she kissed him. He would have never, in a million years, predicted that she could possibly like him. He had always thought she liked Ron, or even Harry. Never him. He was just the goofy half of a crazy duo.

"I should go," she said softly, a depressed tone to her voice. He realized that she had been staring at him, waiting for a response.

"No, please stay," Fred pleaded quietly.

Hermione took a deep breath and looked at him. "Why?" She asked.

"Hermione Granger."

"What?"

"That's her name. Hermione Granger."

It dawned on her then what he was talking about. She smiled and kissed him quickly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Good to know," she murmured before he swooped down and captured her lips in another kiss.

**A/N**: My first dabble in this pairing, how did I do?


End file.
